How To Prank Your Ex-Boyfriend
by TheNextFolchart
Summary: For some reason, Fred couldn't get the image of Hermione Granger out of his head. / A Christmas Fremione for the lovely Colleen :) Post-Hogwarts, FredLives!AU.


**How To Prank Your Ex-Boyfriend**

_For Colleen. Merry Early Christmas, darling._

* * *

><p><em>Four Days To Christmas<em>

"Honestly, Hermione, it's just odd."

"Why is it _odd_," Hermione fumed, "that I'm decorating my Christmas tree?"

Ron plucked a red bauble from her cardboard box of ornaments and dangled it by the loop of ribbon threaded through its top. "Back me up, Harry," he called to his friend, who was in the kitchen of the flat the three of them shared, helping Ginny bake pies.

"Leave her alone, Ronald," Ginny snapped before Harry could say anything. "She can decorate her tree if she wants to decorate her tree."

"It's not about the decorating." Ron tapped on the bauble with his fingernail. "It's _how _she's decorating."

Hermione hooked a plastic candy cane over of the higher branches. "I'm sorry if you don't like my choice in ornamentation," she said, refusing to meet his eye, "but I think everyone else who lives here will agree that my taste far surpasses yours, so I'd appreciate if you would shut the - "

"Your taste is fine," Ron said hurriedly. "It's just that - you're putting on the ornaments - you know, by hand. Without magic."

Hermione let out a sarcastic _hah_. "Forgive me," she said, grabbing the red bauble from Ron's hand, "for not whipping out my wand at every occasion." She shoved the bulb onto a branch with unnecessary force; a flurry of pine needles fell to the floor. "I'm sorry I don't use magic to do the dishes. I'm sorry I don't use magic to make my bed. I'm sorry I was raised as a muggle, and that my hand doesn't twitch toward my wand every time there is the slightest chance I might have to do something _physical_." She turned on her heel and marched out of the living room, leaving her Christmas tree half bare.

"Where are you going?" Ron shouted after her.

"Wherever you _aren't_."

A door banged somewhere in the apartment, and then things were quiet.

"So I take it the break-up is going well," Ginny said as she pulled her pie out of the oven.

"Nightmarishly," Harry said. "They can't stand the sight of each other, but neither one will move out."

"Why not?" Ginny flicked her wand and sent a gust of cold wind at the pie.

"Hermione says she deserves to stay, since she pays half of the rent." Harry handed Ginny another pie for the oven. "And Ron doesn't want to go because he'd have to move back in with your mum."

"So all three of you are just going to live here?" Ginny slid the uncooked pie into the oven.

"Looks like it."

"She's going to murder him." Ginny cut a slice of cooled pie and put it on a plate. "Taste this."

Harry dug a fork out of a drawer and took a bite. "It's delicious."

She motioned for the fork and took her own bite. "It _is _delicious. Mum's recipes are always - "

"Get _out _of my room, Ronald, or I will hex you into oblivion!"

"It's my room too, Hermione, and I don't see how you can - "

Ginny put down her fork and raised her eyebrows. "They're still sharing a bedroom?"

" - stuff is on _my_ side of the closet, and if I find it there again I'm going to _burn _it, do you hear me, Ron? I will _burn_ - "

"They're the stubbornest people I've ever met." Harry reached for the pie. "Excluding you, maybe."

Ginny laughed.

" - can't believe I thought I was in _love _with you three months ago. Leaving you was the _best decision I ever _- "

"Except you _didn't _leave, you're still _here_, you won't move _out _- "

Ginny shook her head and leaned down to check the pie in the oven. "I predict she kills him by Christmas Eve."

* * *

><p><em>Three Days To Christmas<em>

The problem with the holidays, Fred decided, was the stress.

Not that _he _was stressed - he was fine. Business was booming; people were lined up in the streets to get inside the shop and buy gag gifts for their friends and families. They were sold out of nearly everything. "Customer wants a Headless Hat," he'd said to George an hour ago, and George had replied that there weren't any Headless Hats left; the entire shipment that had come in yesterday had been snapped up in less than one morning.

"We're sold out, mate," Fred had said to the customer, "but can I interest you in another product?"

"Pygmy puff?' the customer had asked hopefully. "For my daughter?"

"Excellent choice. Our assistant, Ron, can help you out with that." Fred had searched through the mob for a moment before he spotted Ron's hair. "Here we are." He'd steered the customer over to his brother, talking all the while about what fantastic gifts pygmy puffs made, and then stopped short when they came close enough to hear that Ron was screaming at a young girl who'd stuck her fingers through the pygmy puff cage and gotten bitten.

"The sign," Ron was saying, "says _Do Not Touch: Seek Assistance._ Can you even read?"

The girl was sobbing.

"I mean, _really_," Ron said, throwing his hands in the air, "how idiotic can you be, ignoring something like that? You deserve to be bitten. I don't even feel bad for you, you stubborn little - "

Then Fred had grabbed him by the collar of his uniform and dragged him into the back room and told him to _stay put_, and then he'd gone back out and given the crying girl a Skiving Snackbox free of charge and helped the other customer choose a pygmy puff for his daughter and forgotten all about Ron until an hour later.

"Can you handle things?" Fred asked George. "I've got to go deal with something."

George collected a galleon from a customer and dropped it into the register. "I can cover it, yeah," he said, handing the customer a receipt. "What's happened?"

Fred jerked his head toward the back room. "Ickle Ronnie lost his temper."

George beckoned the next customer forward. "That's been happening a lot lately."

"Git. He'll drive away our business."

George eyed the nearly-empty shelves. "I don't think it's a problem, actually."

Fred smirked as he left George at the register and entered the back room. "So I take it the break-up is going well," he said to Ron, who was hunched over on the couch.

"None of your business."

"It's my business when you start lashing out at my customers."

"So fire me," Ron said. "Fire me, and I'll move back in with Mum. You'll be doing Hermione a favor."

Fred rolled his eyes. "Don't be dramatic."

"I'm not the dramatic one. She's the one who - "

"If I recall, mate, you're the one who ended things with her."

Ron closed his mouth.

"Why'd you do it?" Fred asked, sitting on the couch next to his brother.

Ron snorted. "Have you met Hermione? She's impossible."

"Don't I know it." A distinct memory of a fifteen-year-old Hermione threatening to write his mother about some broken rule flashed before Fred's eyes, and he shuddered. "Half the jokes I pulled at Hogwarts were just to get on her nerves." He grinned. "I think it worked."

Ron snorted again. "Feel free to come over any time."

"If you despise her so much, why are you still living there?"

"Have you seen how much you pay me? I can't afford to move out."

Fred grinned. "Family discount. We can pay you less than real employees."

"Don't be surprised if I start living out of this back room, then." Ron was scowling. "She should move out," he added. "She's the one who overreacts every time I open my mouth. It's like she's determined to be angry with me for some reason."

Fred raised his eyebrows. "Your intelligence baffles me, Ron."

"She stormed out of the room just because I told her it's odd to decorate a Christmas tree without magic." Ron rolled his eyes. "She's a nightmare. Can't ever admit I'm right, even when it's obvious."

"You told her it's odd to decorate without magic?"

"Yeah." Ron shrugged. "I mean, is she a witch or isn't she?"

"She's always had Christmases with muggles, though," Fred said. "She's probably used to doing it that way."

"Well, yeah, but - "

"So you told her, essentially, that her childhood holiday traditions are rubbish."

"I - "

"And all she did was storm out of the room? She didn't even hex you?" Fred clicked his tongue and shook his head. "If anything, that's an under-reaction."

Ron glared. "Whose side are you on?"

"Not yours, mate."

"We're sold out!" George cried from out at the register. "I told you, we don't have anything left - Fred! _Fred! _They're rioting!"

Fred was grinning as he stood up. "Duty calls," he said to Ron. "We'll call you when there's another little girl we want you to scream at."

Ron sent him a rude hand gesture, but Fred was already walking out.

"Fred to the rescue," he said to George, who was trying to herd the line of angry customers out into the street. "Are we really sold out?"

"Of _everything_." George shooed the last patron out the door and hung up the _CLOSED _sign. "Two blokes were fighting over the last love potion, it spilled everywhere."

Fred flicked his wand and cleaned up the mess. "Go order another shipment of everything," he said, crossing around behind the counter and opening the overflowing register. "And tell Ron he can go home, unless he really has decided to live here, in which case he'd better bring me the first week's rent."

George snorted as he went into the back room.

Fred began to count up the coins in the register.

(For some reason, he couldn't get the image of Hermione Granger out of his head.)

* * *

><p><em>Two Days To Christmas<em>

Hermione was glad Ginny's hair stood out so brilliantly, because otherwise she would have lost her shopping partner in the crowd.

"I'm surprised it's so busy," she said when they found a quiet corner inside Honeydukes. "I assumed most people would do their last-minute Christmas shopping in Diagon Alley."

Ginny pulled off her gloves and began to load her arms with sweets. "Diagon Alley is probably packed, too," she said as she snagged the last Fizzing Whizbee from the shelf. "But Hogsmeade gets worse the closer it is to Christmas Eve."

"Why is that?" Hermione started to reach for a box of Every Flavor Beans, but someone snatched it before she could close her hand around the tin.

"Diagon Alley's got toys and books and stuff," Ginny said as she selected a Licorice Wand, "but Hogsmeade's got the food. So people buy their gifts ahead of time in London, and then come here to get the Christmas feast." She beckoned Hermione toward the end of the long checkout line. "If you want to be done after Honeydukes, we can pop into Diagon Alley and see if it's any better."

"Let's do that." Hermione picked up a Chocolate Frog and looked at it thoughtfully.

"Are you getting that?" Ginny asked, looking at the line again.

Hermione bit her lip. "No." She returned it to its bin.

"So you're not getting _anything_?" Ginny looked pointedly at her friend's empty hands.

"I'm compensating for your buying up the entire shop," Hermione said, poking at the pile of candy in Ginny's arms.

Ginny grinned. "I have a dozen people to think about!"

"You have enough to feed twice that."

"No, look, it's all completely justified. Cauldron Cakes for Harry, Fizzing Whizbees for Mum, lemon drops for Dad, Peppermint Toads to send to Neville, Cockroach Clusters for Luna - "

"Luna _likes _Cockroach Clusters?"

"Apparently." Ginny shrugged. "I can't explain anything Luna does. Anyway. Licorice Wand for Bill, Peppermint Imps for Charlie - so he can breathe fire just like his dragons, get it? - Acid Pops for Percy - "

"_Percy _likes _Acid Pops_?"

"No, I just don't like Percy."

Hermione laughed.

"So Acid Pops for Percy, Chocoballs for Fred, exploding bon-bons for George, Chocolate Frogs for Ron - "

(Hermione refused to look at the bin where she'd put back her Chocolate Frog.)

" - and Toothflossing Stringmints for you."

"You don't have to get me anything," Hermione said as they approached the counter.

"Maybe I should put it back," Ginny said playfully, "since you clearly didn't get anything for me."

"I like to keep my gifts a surprise, thank you very much," Hermione said. They were at the front of the line.

"Hmph." Ginny unloaded her candy on the counter and fished out her wallet. "The surprise is already ruined, now that I know it isn't going to be candy."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Hold my place." She ducked out of line and grabbed the first sweet her hand touched - a Chocoball. "There," she said when she came back, dropping two sickles on the counter. "Candy. Happy Christmas, Ginny."

Ginny snorted as they walked out of Honeydukes. "I don't even like Chocoballs," she said, pulling on her gloves. "Those are _Fred's_ favorites."

"Well, Happy Christmas to Fred, then." Hermione tucked the sweet in her pocket. "To Diagon Alley?"

"To Diagon Alley."

Together, they closed their eyes and turned on the spot.

"D'you want to go give it to Fred now?" Ginny asked a little breathlessly when they reappeared just outside Flourish and Blotts - Apparating didn't make Hermione dizzy anymore, but Ginny always seemed to need a few minutes to recover afterwards. "So I can stop in the book shop and get your actual present?"

"The candy isn't my actual present?"

"Well, you're so big on surprises, I figured I'd better cover all my bases."

Hermione laughed. "I don't need anything. Really. The holidays aren't about gifts, they're about enjoying each other's company."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm getting you a book. If you want it to be a surprise, don't follow me inside." She pushed her oversized Honeydukes bag up on her arm and turned toward the entrance to Flourish and Blotts. "Meet me back here in an hour?" she asked over her shoulder.

"I'll be here." Hermione shoved her hands in her pockets, being careful not to squish the Chocoball, and started down the street toward Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. She went through a mental checklist of gifts as she walked: Broomstick Varnish kit for Harry? Check. Fur gloves for Mum? Check. The annual tie for Dad? Check. A Holyhead Harpies poster for Ginny? Check. Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them for Luna, who had managed to never read it? Check. A subscription to Herbology Quarterly for Neville? Check.

(The list was one person shorter this year, and Hermione wondered whether she'd made the right choice in putting back the Chocolate Frog.)

It wasn't supposed to have been her only gift to Ron, of course. She'd been planning a trip for them - just the two of them, alone together without Harry for the first time since they'd met. Her Christmas present to Ron was supposed to have been a two-week vacation to Egypt (because the only card missing from Ron's Chocolate Frog collection was Ptolemy, who was from Egypt). On their last night there, she would have given him the Ptolemy card, which she'd found completely by chance in the Chocolate Frog she'd purchased on her way home from work almost four months ago.

But then, Hermione reminded herself as she turned the corner, Ron had gone and mucked everything up, so she'd cancelled the trip and shoved the Ptolemy at the bottom of her old school trunk and crossed her former boyfriend off her Christmas gift list.

The twin's joke shop came into view; a giant CLOSED sign hung in the window, but the lights were on inside, so she knocked.

"We're closed!" someone yelled from inside.

"Completely sold out," added an identical voice.

"Can't you _read_?" a third person said rudely, and Hermione's eyes grew wide, because she knew the third voice intimately well, and she hadn't realized he was here. . . .

George's face appeared at the window, and then: "Oh, it's Hermione. Let her in, will you, Fred?"

The lock rattled, and the door flew open. "What can we do for you?" Fred asked, folding his arms across his chest. Hermione saw Ron duck into the back room. "We haven't done anything illegal, if that's why you're here."

"We can't be held responsible for the girl who got bitten by the pygmy puff," George said.

"We have signs up everywhere warning that they're ferocious."

"It's her own fault for not reading them."

"And neither of us were on duty over there."

"It was Ron's job. Yell at him."

"I'm not here about a pygmy puff." Hermione pushed between the twins and came into the shop.

Fred closed the door behind her. "No? Are you here to yell at Ron for something else?" He looked toward the back room. "Oh, Ronnie! Someone's here to - "

"I'm not here for Ron," Hermione insisted. "Ginny and I were out shopping, and I thought I'd stop by."

"Ginny's not with you," George pointed out.

"She's buying my present."

Fred let out a low whistle. "Left it to the last minute this year, I see."

"We had all our gifts months in advance," George said.

"Granted, they're all from our own shop - "

" - but considering how quickly we're selling out nowadays, I'd say it was some pretty good planning on our parts."

There was a _crash _from the back room, followed by a colorful word from Ron.

Fred looked at George. "Your turn."

With a sigh, George disappeared into the back room.

"What do you mean, his turn?" Hermione asked, taking her hands out of her pockets and pulling off her gloves.

"Ronnie's been a little on edge lately." Fred leaned against the counter. "Something to do with his stressful home life, I'd say."

Hermione felt herself turn pink.

"What happened, exactly?" he asked.

"I don't believe my personal life is any of your business, Fred Weasley," she snapped.

"It's not," he said.

It wasn't what she'd been expecting, and she didn't have a reply ready.

"I just wanted to see if you were okay." He shrugged. "Because clearly Ron isn't."

(There was another crash from the back room, followed by George yelling about being crushed by a Christmas tree.)

"Why've you got a Christmas tree in your back room?" Hermione asked.

"Ron put it there. Probably to make it feel more like home." Fred hesitated. "He's thinking of moving into the shop after New Years."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "He wants to live in your back room? I'm really so unbearable?"

"He's barmy," Fred said. "I'd take you over our back room any day." He leaned a little farther over the counter. "So what _did _happen, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Between me and Ron?" Hermione sighed. "Well, for starters, he's impossible. He overreacts to _everything_, it's like he goes out of his way to find fault with every little thing I - what's so funny?"

Fred was grinning. "He said exactly the same thing about you."

"_What?_"

"I know." He shook his head, still smiling. "You two are too similar, that's your problem. He needs someone who will nod and go along with everything he says, no matter how idiotic, and that's just not how you operate."

Hermione blinked. "Exactly."

"And, in Ron's defense, you're quite easy to rile up."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Thanks."

"I mean it." Fred sat back and tilted his head. The smirk on his face was vaguely Ron-like - they all had the same mouth, those Weasley boys - but his cheekbones were higher, Hermione thought, and his freckles less prominent. "I enjoy watching you lose control."

"Lose control? I don't - "

"When you're angry enough, you do. It's quite entertaining. You begin to rant and rave all over the place."

"Well," Hermione said, setting her jaw, "I'm glad I can provide you with _entertainment_."

"Oh, don't be angry." His smile widened. "Oy, what's Ginny getting me for Christmas?"

She appreciated the change of subject. "Why would I tell _you_?"

"Because all I've got for her is a pair of enchanted socks that scream whenever you take a step, and if she's getting me something better then I need to know now."

Hermione almost smirked. "Only you would give someone screaming socks."

"Wait until you see what I've got for _you_."

"You got me a present?"

"I wasn't planning to, originally. I like to think my mere presence in your life is the gift that keeps on giving - "

(Hermione let out a sarcastic _hah_.)

" - but then I found something that was very Hermione, and so I picked it up."

"Let me guess," Hermione said. (The Chocoball felt heavy in her pocket.) "It's a magical eraser that will wipe all of my books clean?"

Fred's omnipresent grin deepened. "Not quite. But that'll be good for your birthday, won't it."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, I got you something you'll actually like," she said, reaching into her pocket for the sweet, "and you're going to feel terrible when you give me your gag gift."

His eyes lit up. "You bought me a present?"

"I did." She pulled it out and set it on the counter. "Chocoball, your favorite. Happy early Christmas; now maybe you'll have time to find me a real gift."

Fred stared at the Chocoball for a long moment. "Thank you," he said finally. "This is unexpected."

"Guess I'm not so impossible after all." She pulled her gloves back over her hands and turned toward the door. "I should be getting back to Flourish and Blotts, I'm supposed to meet Ginny."

"Don't tell her about the socks," Fred said.

Hermione looked back over her shoulder and grinned. "No promises." She pulled open the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, won't I? At the Christmas Eve party at the Burrow?"

"Six o'clock sharp," Fred said. "Wouldn't miss it."

Hermione kept her hands in her pockets all the way up the street. "Find everything you were looking for?" she asked Ginny when the redhead came out of Flourish and Blotts struggling with two giant paper bags in addition to her plastic bag from Honeydukes.

"Just about," Ginny said, handing Hermione one of the bags to carry. "To the Leaky Cauldron? I'm dying for something to drink."

"To the Leaky Cauldron."

They started walking. "Did you give Fred his Chocoball?" Ginny asked.

"I did."

"And?" Ginny was grinning.

"And what?"

"What did he say?"

"Thank you?" Hermione readjusted the bag on her arm. "How many books did you _buy?_"

Ginny's grin faded. "He didn't tell you off?"

"No. Why would he?"

"Fred hates Chocoballs."

Hermione frowned. "What?"

"He can't stand them. I always give him one, just to get him back for all the pranks he's pulled on me that year." Ginny frowned. "I thought for sure he'd tell you off."

"No." Hermione bit her lip. "Maybe he's decided he likes them."

"Not Fred. He's hated them since he was little."

"Maybe it's George who doesn't like them?"

"George doesn't like exploding bon-bons," Ginny said, patting the Honeyduke's bag. "I always get them their least favorites, and they always get me enchanted clothing that says rude words or runs away from me or something. It's tradition."

They'd reached the Leaky Cauldron. The warmth inside was welcome after the wintry outdoor air. "I wonder why he didn't say anything," Ginny continued as they sat down in a booth. "He's not really one to be falsely polite."

"No," Hermione said, and the comment about riling her up ran through her mind. "No, he isn't that type at all."

* * *

><p><em>Christmas Eve<em>

"Hermione, are you ever coming out of there?"

"When Ron leaves," came the muffled reply from behind Ginny's door, "I will come downstairs."

They were at the Burrow for Christmas Eve dinner - Mrs. Weasley had made more food than anyone knew what to do with - and during the main course Ron had made a comment about decorating the Christmas tree using magic instead of doing it "the odd way," which had prompted Hermione to get up from the table and lock herself in Ginny's bedroom. "Come on, Hermione," Ginny said, banging on the door. "I'm about to pass out the sweets for dessert. Don't you want your Stringmints?"

"Give them to Ron, so he can make fun of them, just like he does with everything else I own."

"Hermione. This isn't like you. Why are you being so childish?"

"I don't know," Hermione said angrily, "maybe it's because I gave years of my life to someone childish, and he rubbed off on me?"

Ginny let out an exasperated sigh. "We'll be downstairs when you're ready to come out," she said. "And we'll make Ron apologize, if you want."

"Oh, no, don't do that," Hermione said sarcastically. "Wouldn't want him to think I'm overreacting!"

"You _are _overreactng, Hermione. He's doing this because he's insecure. He knows he isn't worthy of you. Everyone knows he isn't worthy of you."

A pause, and then Hermione cracked open the door. "If he talks to me," she said, "I'm coming back up here."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "That's idiotic, but fine. Whatever it takes to get you downstairs."

Hermione followed her friend down into the living room, where the party guests had moves to sit by the fireplace and admire the Christmas tree. Nobody even looked up when the girls came in; Charlie was animatedly telling a story about his conquests in Romania, and he had everyone's undivided attention.

"So my wand caught fire as soon as the thing opened its mouth," Charlie said excitedly, "and I didn't know what to do, because everything they teach you about taming dragons involves magic. . . ."

Silently, Ginny began to pass out her sweets. Ron tore open his Chocolate Frog, glanced at the card, and sighed when it wasn't Ptolemy. Hermione smirked.

(She'd snuck the Ptolemy card into her pocket before she'd left the flat, just in case Ron had a sudden change of heart, but it looked like not even the magic of Christmastime could make him less insufferable.)

". . . and I threw my flaming wand as hard as I could, and it hit the dragon directly in the eye. Blinded it completely! That's when my backup arrived, and they stunned it and brought it back to the enclosure." Charlie sat back, a smug smile on his face. "Got a medal of bravery for that one, and a new wand."

Mrs. Weasley frowned. "I do wish they'd give you a safer job," she began, and everyone groaned in unison.

"Mum, his job is _cool_," George said.

"Hot, actually, if you factor in the fire," Fred chimed in.

"Very funny, very funny, but in all seriousness - "

"Oh, pipe down, Mum, he can handle himself," said Bill from the couch, where he was sitting with one arm draped across Fleur's shoulders and the other circled around a sleeping baby Victoire. "Thank you, Ginny," he added when his sister passed his Licorice Wand into his hand.

"Yes, _thank _you, Ginny," George said, chucking his package of exploding bon-bons at her. "Thank you _ever so much _for this lovelygift of _miniature edible bombs_."

Ginny grinned and winked. "I know how fond you are of loud noises." She turned to the man in the straight-backed chair. "And you, Percy? What do you think of your sweet?"

"Very nice," Percy said stiffly, looking down at the Acid Pop in his hand. "Thank you for thinking of me, Ginny."

"You're welcome," Ginny said sweetly. "Freddie? Anything to say?"

Fred didn't take his eyes off the Chocoball in his hand. "These are my favorites." There was no trace of insincerity in his voice.

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Go ahead, then. Eat it."

Fred unwrapped the sweet carefully and took a bite.

George's jaw dropped. "Fred, you just ate a - "

"Yes, I know," Fred said through his mouthful.

George whirled on Ginny. "What've you done to him?" he asked - and he didn't sound angry, only genuinely curious. "Imperius Curse?"

Ginny raised her hands in surrender. "Don't look at me."

"I just like Chocoballs," Fred said, but nobody paid attention.

"What else can you make him do?" George asked. "Tell him to give me a raise."

"Tell him to give _me _a raise," Ron said. "I could use some extra money, now that I'm moving into a new flat."

"A new flat?" Harry repeated, just as George said, "What about the back room?"

"I've found someone to split the rent with." Ron looked quite pleased with himself. "I'm moving out the day after Christmas."

(Hermione was suddenly hyperaware of the Ptolemy card in her pocket.)

"Who're you moving in with?" Ginny asked. "You don't have any friends, besides us."

"Shove off, Ginny," Ron said. "I've got plenty of - "

"Who are you moving in with?" Hermione asked, and the room went silent.

Ron swallowed, but he maintained eye contact. "Lavender Brown," he said.

Hermione bit down hard on her tongue. "Oh."

"Yeah." He squirmed a little. "She, er, she's been in St. Mungo's for awhile, getting patched up after the battle at Hogwarts, but she's out now, and she isn't even a werewolf."

Hermione could feel everyone's eyes on her. "Good for Lavender."

"But she needs help with all kinds of everyday things," Ron explained. "While she rehabilitates, I mean."

"You don't have to explain yourself," Hermione said.

"It's not like I'm dating her," Ron said at the same time.

Hermione stood up. "Excuse me," she said, and then she was walking as fast as she could without running back up to Ginny's room.

* * *

><p><em>Christmas Day<em>

The inevitable knock came too soon. Hermione rolled over on Ginny's bed to face the door. "Go away, Ginny."

"It's not Ginny," said a male voice.

"Go away, Fred. Or George, or whichever one you are."

The door cracked open. "Fred," he said. "You had it right the first time."

Hermione sat up on the bed. "What do you want?"

"To give you your Christmas present." He opened the door a little wider. "Can I come in?"

"It isn't Christmas yet," Hermione said, but she nodded, and he came inside and shut the door behind him.

"It's just past midnight," he said, sitting down on the bed next to her. "So technically, yes, it is."

"Oh." Hermione twisted her hands together. "I've been up here longer than I thought."

Fred waved his hand in the air. "It doesn't matter. Nobody blames you."

She tried to smile. "I'm being childish. We've been broken up for three months, he can go out with any girl he - "

"You're allowed to be hurt, Hermione."

She closed her eyes and tried to will away the tears building up in her throat.

"You're allowed to be imperfect sometimes."

"I know." She opened her eyes. "I just - "

"You love him." Fred shrugged. "You tried the romantic thing, and it didn't work out. But you still care about him. He's still your friend. He must be, otherwise you would have kicked him out three months ago."

She managed a shaky smile. "You sum things up so well."

"I'm a master of words."

"Funny, considering you never read."

"What are you talking about?" Fred looked mildly offended. "I read."

"Not your textbooks."

"Oh. That's boring reading. I read exciting things." Fred winked. "Speaking of which." He pulled a square parcel from behind his back. "For you. Happy Christmas."

She took the gift. "Thank you. And about the Chocoball - I'm so sorry."

He looked surprised. "For what?"

"I didn't realize you didn't like them." She touched the green bow on her present. "Ginny told me they were your favorites."

"Eh, it's the thought that counts." The smile on his face was quite different from the usual smirk.

"You didn't have to lie," she said. "You could have told me the truth. I wouldn't have been offended or anything."

"Thought that counts," he said again, and he tapped the present in her hands. "Are you going to open it, or not?"

Hermione picked at the wrapping paper. "It's not going to jump out and bite me, is it?"

"No. But that's a reasonable fear."

Her mouth curved up into a smile as she tore off the last of the paper. "How To Prank Your Ex-Boyfriend," she read, eyebrows raised. "By Fred Weasley."

Fred grinned and tapped the cover. "Wrote it myself. Just for you. Figured I'd pass along my wisdom to someone in need."

"You've got experience with pranking your ex-boyfriends, have you?" Hermione asked shrewdly, and Fred's eyebrows shot up.

"Funny," he said, and he sounded genuinely impressed. "Start reading."

Hermione turned to the first page. "Chapter One: Hiding His Things."

"That's a good one," Fred said. "I put in a list of charms - here, turn to page twelve." He leaned over and turned the pages for her. "George and I invented all of them. This first one will turn things invisible, so he won't be able to find his things. Especially handy when he's late for work."

Hermione laughed.

"This one," Fred said, pointing at the fifth spell on the list, "will make things run away from him. We used it on Ginny's jumper last year. She chased it around the house for a good hour before the spell wore off."

Hermione shook her head, but she was still smiling. "You're unbelievable."

"I'll take that as a compliment. Look at Chapter Two, it's got all kinds of ways to mess with his looks so nobody else will ever want him."

She turned the page and burst out laughing. "Hair loss potions?"

Fred nodded smugly. "There's also a spell that'll make his face turn purple and blotchy."

"Don't you think it's dangerous," Hermione said as she skimmed through the rest of the chapters, "putting all this ammunition into my hands?"

"What d'you mean?"

"What if I decide to use these tactics on people besides Ron?" she asked. "What if the next time you rile me up, you wake up the next morning with no hair?"

Fred shrugged. "I'm taking my chances."

Hermione stopped flipping pages and looked up. "Why?"

"Why. . . ?"

"Why are you here? Why are you taking chances on me?"

His grin faded down to something subtle, something real. "Maybe I'm _hoping_ you'll use the tactics on me."

"What?"

"Well, not all of them." He licked his lips. "But maybe . . . maybe there's one, in particular."

Hermione looked down at the book. "You want me to charm the mirror to insult you?"

He shook his head and leaned over to turn the page for her. "Final chapter," he said, tapping the top of the page. "Most effective prank, in my humble opinion."

Hermione looked at the chapter title for a long moment. "Chapter Twenty: Start Dating Your Ex's Smarter, Funnier, Infinitely Handsomer and Wildly More Successful Older Brother."

Fred lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Yeah. That one."

Hermione was still staring at the title. "You - are you asking me out?"

"Merlin, Hermione, they told me you were smart."

She swallowed. "I just - it's unexpected."

"Is it unwanted?"

She looked up; his eyes were trained on her. He caught her gaze and held it carefully. (Had he always been sitting this close to her, or had he inched forward?)

"Well?"

"No."

He licked his lips. "Ah - sorry, is that a no, you won't go out with me, or a no, it's not unwanted?"

She felt her face break into a smile. "The unwanted part. It's not - it's not unwanted."

He grinned. "Imagine that," he said softly, and he traced his hand across the page until his fingers brushed hers. "Fred Weasley and Prefect Granger. I don't think anybody saw it coming."

She let him thread his fingers through her own. "Opposites attract," she said, and he smirked and pressed a gentle kiss into the back of her hand. "Hang on," she said, pulling away. "Are you . . . do you only want this because it's going to make Ron angry?"

"Honestly?" Fred wound his fingers around hers again. "No. I'm not."

"Are you _sure_?"

He grinned. "Hermione. I ate a Chocoball for you. It's real. Trust me."

He was still inching forward, and his eyes were on her lips, and she wanted _so badly _to lean in because those Weasley boys all had the same mouth but she was willing to bet his kisses weren't like Ron's at all. . . .

"Oh!" Hermione pulled out of his hand and jumped off the bed. "Oh, I have to do something. Don't go anywhere."

"Okay?" Fred said, but she was already bounding out the door and running down the stairs. Most of the guests were gone - Bill and Fleur had gone home, Harry had taken Ginny back to the flat for a rare moment alone, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were in the kitchen cleaning up from the feast. Percy was nowhere to be found, but Charlie was chatting with George by the fireplace, and dozing on the couch was -

"Ron," she said breathlessly, shaking him awake. "Ron, you prat, wake up."

Ron sat up and blinked. "Whassamatter?"

"Here." Hermione reached into her pocket and shoved the Ptolemy card into his hand. "Happy Christmas. I hope you and Lavender have an excellent New Year." She leaned down to peck his cheek, and then she bolted out of the living room and back up the stairs.

"Bloody hell!" she heard Ron shout behind her. "This is a - where the hell did you _get _this?"

Hermione was grinning as she slipped back into Ginny's room. "I'm back."

Fred had adjusted his position so he was lounging across Ginny's bed. "What was so important?"

She perched on the bed next to him. "I had to give Ron his Christmas present."

"Oh?" Fred had his hands folded behind his head. "Ron gets a Christmas present and all I get is a lousy Chocoball?"

Hermione was beaming. "Don't worry. I have a real present for you," she said. Her heart was pounding - from the flights of stairs or from nerves, she didn't know. "Close your eyes."

He did. She pulled out her wand and performed a silent incantation. A small green plant appeared on the bed; she tugged one of Fred's hands out from behind his head and pressed the sprig into his palm. "Open your eyes."

He looked down at the plant. "Mistletoe?"

She nodded. "It's yours," she said. "Put it wherever you want."

He raised his eyebrows and smirked. "Thanks. I think I'll go hold it over Ron and Charlie's heads, so they'll have to snog each other."

Her face fell slightly. "Oh."

He grinned. "But first." He leaned over and dangled the mistletoe over her head. "Looks like you owe me a kiss, Prefect Granger."

(His kiss was nothing like Ron's - it was gentler, slower, calmer - and her heart was pounding from _excitement_.)

"Happy Christmas," he murmured against her mouth, and Hermione let her eyes slip closed and wrapped her arms around his neck.

* * *

><p><em>[Disney Character Competition: Belle - write about someone learning something from a book]<em>

_[Greek Gods Competition: Hyperion - write about Hermione]_

_[Battleship Challenge II: H3 - write about Fred Weasley]_


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